20. Killian

CHAPTER TWENTY

KILLIAN

W e spent the entire afternoon talking, and then well into the night.

It was no great surprise to find that we had more in common than I did with most people—he'd been treated as an adult starting at a tender age, raised to be a parent to his own siblings and do the family accounts when he was barely tall enough to sit at his father's desk and see over the top.

Hells, somehow, I'd had more of a childhood than him. Despite spending it all training to kill people, and then starting to do so when I was still a teenager, I'd been sheltered in ways he hadn't. My mother and her men had treated me like I was a child before I'd become a warrior, not like it was my job to see to their needs.

He didn't blame Paris or Helena, which made sense to me—they had been children as well, and hadn't chosen the roles their family had fallen into. But he also didn't blame his father, and I didn't agree with that. I thought the man had died leaving a lot unanswered for.

But then, Hector thought it unconscionable that Mother had let me stand guard on the wall starting when I was thirteen, so clearly, there were things we would never quite agree on.

We had another... interlude... that wasn't quite sex, but that let me touch him in the ways I'd been craving since I'd first seen him. Which was a little strange of me, since the man had been near death the first time I'd clapped eyes on his still form. I'd certainly never fallen directly into lust with a sick man before. I didn't tend to lust after anyone.

Who had time for that?

I had duties to see to.

But for the first time ever, I had someone who understood that in Hector.

So instead of how to put him off without angering him, my mind turned to how one might stack the odds in favor of recovery from Avianitis. It was horrid and selfish of me, but I... I wanted him. I wanted him in every way, not just the paltry few moments we'd been able to steal.

The morning started with a knock on the door, which was rather unusual.

No one generally had time to need me before I'd slipped out of bed and off to work in the morning. But no, the sun was well into the sky, and Hector and I had fallen asleep atop my blankets after hours of talking.

He was mostly dressed, but I wasn't interested in sharing his bare chest regardless, so I flipped a blanket atop him as I slid out of bed, reaching for a shirt to throw on myself.

"Who is it?"

"Abram."

Somehow, that was better and worse than just anyone. He was going to be so insufferably smug. Still, nothing for it but to move forward and accept the rebuke when you were proven wrong. "Come in."

Hector was blinking awake, looking surprisingly aware and interested, even as he pulled my blanket around him with a tiny smile.

Abram didn't disappoint when he entered. His eyes focused first on Hector, and a smile twitched across his lips. "Hector. Good you're here. I need to speak to you as well." Then he turned toward me, brandishing a letter. "I've been discussing the bolt thrower Hector built with a friend in the Raven, and Chief Minerva has asked that we bring one to the next clan meeting in a few months for demonstration."

I blinked for a moment, still slow with sleep and considering what such a thing would entail. Hector would have to come to the meeting, of course. He'd have to build a second one, which I imagined he'd been planning anyway, but then we would have to travel to the meeting in a wagon to be able to transport the large pieces of material. Even if Hector didn't assemble it until we arrived, the pieces of the thing had been far too big to be carried as birds.

Hector seemed to be having the same thought process, eyes narrowed and darting back and forth, no longer focused on anything in the room.

So I turned to Abram. "Will you come?"

He shrugged. "I could, but it's not necessary. Hector is the one who made the thing, so he's the one who should get the credit when they see it."

"Oh, that doesn't matter," Hector hedged. "I don't need credit for anything. This is why we're all here, isn't it? Protecting Nemeda. Doing our time on the wall."

I went to sit down on the bed next to him, leaning in and brushing our shoulders together. "This is more than most people do in their entire time on the wall. It's more than you're suggesting, and it's very impressive. But if you don't want to be in front and face the scrutiny of the clan leaders, we can have Abram come and show them. He's dealt with them before."

Abram nodded, a jolly smile blooming on his face. "It's been a while, but I can face down the little bastards. They can't even sneer at how I got my position because I'm one of the chief's lovers anymore." Then he cocked his head. "Though the worst offender at that was always the Eagle, and he's gone now."

I narrowed my eyes. "You didn't take charge of the smithy until after Mother died," I pointed out.

He waved me off. "I was a member of her honor guard. He was constantly needling about how fucking her wasn't the position of honor I thought it was. It was mostly because he was jealous that she refused to ever fuck him."

Now that, I believed. I snorted and shook my head.

Hector, meanwhile, was shaking his head, looking annoyed. "That's not how it works. Everyone has to come here. They all spend a year here. They know that people get positions they deserve and are capable of doing here. It's"—he ducked his head, cheeks flushing—"it's kind of nice, when it's not annoying me. Knowing everyone is in their position because they're good at it. No accidents of birth or rank nepotism."

Abram's eyes narrowed. "Nepo-what?"

"Getting a position just because of who your parents are."

Abram snorted, shaking his head. "Killian himself would have stepped down if he hadn't been up to the job when his mother passed. We can't afford incompetence here just to feed a bloodline's arrogance."

That was a good reminder for me, yet again. I turned to Hector. "It's going to be a while, these bolt throwers of yours. We're going to ask you to make a lot of them. Train people to use them. But after that, if you want, I'll teach you the spear myself, to prepare you for your time on the wall."

He met my gaze with an intense one of his own, though I couldn't quite tell what was behind those beautiful dark eyes. Finally, though, he nodded to me. "I'd like it, if you taught me how to fight with a spear. Orestes has been trying but..."

Abram snorted. "But Orestes is a giant, and he can do things with a spear no normal man could. Better to be trained by someone less mountain-sized." He took a step back. "Now, since I'm sure you two have more important things to do, I'll take my leave. I'll be in the smithy when you need me. When you're ready to get to work for the day."

I turned a glare on him, but it only caught the back of him as he slipped out the door of my room, shutting it behind him. "Ass," I muttered.

And then Hector was pushing me down onto the bed, and I forgot all about Abram.